Marathon Man

“You going to watch me?” I asked Paula.


“Cheers mate,” I told her. I wasn’t really fussed but all she had to do was turn her head. The marathon literally goes right passed the shop. It goes down the main road. It’s at about the 12 mile point so I should still be looking quite good then. If they were going to see me run then they had the perfect vantage point. A bit further down the road is where I expect the wheels to come off. The route passes the Spar at La Moye, at about the 20 mile point. I’m going to be a fucking mess passing that one!

I can’t believe it’s tomorrow. Can’t understand where the last week went. I thought it was still right at the beginning of October and the dicks are leaving at the end of the month. Well, Enrique’s leaving the beginning of next month, so he reckons. That’s not long. I noticed Paula had been in and out of Enrique’s office all morning. Probably plotting more ways to ruin my life as they had when they’d conspired to leave. A kid was standing at my counter and so I slowly walked there. He had short hair and he wanted some F.

“Going to get high, are you?” I asked. He denied it. “Yeah, right, you’re making a spliff!” The kid didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “It’s okay, I’m not a cop,” I explained. He continued to deny it under intense cross-examination and I continued not to care. I watched the child leave and then saw that Paula had vanished again. I went to Enrique’s door and opened it as quickly as I could. They were standing over Enrique’s desk and looked at me with horror etched upon their faces.


They were writing with markers on a flattened cardboard box.

Run Jamie, Run!

Paula had had clearly written it in big block letters and Enrique was doing the colouring in. Aw, shit, I thought.

“Nice one, dickhead!” Paula shouted as I closed the door.

Those fuckers. They’re probably the best two people in the whole world. I smiled. As I walked back to the counter I knew what I had to do. I had to split up Paula and Wellington and with Enrique I had to do something about drugs. Something… The kid was back at the counter.

“Alright,” I asked, suspicious.

“Do you… sell drugs?” He asked. I looked at the kid and nodded. “Sweet!” He replied. He wasn’t quite so ugly when he smiled. He produced his wallet. I smiled and he smiled. Then I stopped smiling.

“I don’t mean that! I was thinking about… get out of here,” I said. For the first time in a while I relaxed. Couple of weeks. Plenty of time.